Alive
by thatawkwardfangirll
Summary: Mollie Jennings just moved to Beacon Hills with her latest foster home. She doesn't know of the supernatural creatures that inhabit the town. When she falls in love with two guys and finds out about werewolves, where will her life take her? Read to find out!
1. Chapter 1

Mollie looked around the hallways filled with kids more or less her age. They all seemed to move without a care in the world. All they were focused on was getting out of school. Well, it was different for Mollie. She was focused on breaking out of the cell that was her brain.

You see, she had a troubled past.

Her mom died when she was eight and then her dad when she was ten. She grew up in foster homes. They say time heals all wounds. Time only heals it so that the wound can be opened again, causing the pain and loss to come flooding back in even more forcefully than before.

Every time she closed her eyes, she could see her mom's smiling face, her dad telling her everything would be okay, or the social service men coming to take her away, away from her home, from her life, from what she used to be, breathe, and live. Everything changed from that day forward. She wasn't just Mollie Jennings anymore. She was broken.

A broken girl can be dangerous, as you may know. A broken person might not have much to live for, but they have reasons to fight, reasons to get mad. And Mollie was mad.

She was mad that she was neglected and then beaten. She was mad that no one understood or could understand what was happening in her world, the world that had been corrupt the day her mother died.

Many things happened after her mother and father died. She went through foster home and foster home. Yes, she had gotten beaten, but some of the people were relatively nice. Mollie had loved these people for loving her, but they couldn't continue to do so. Mollie, when being loved, detached herself from the person, or people, that loved her. She always kept them at arm's length. None of her foster parent's understood that she needed someone to guide her. She wanted someone who would fight for her. That's what she had thought she wanted, anyways. Now she knows what she wants. She wants to fight for herself and her freedom. And this was one fight that she was not going to lose.

The events that had happened in her past seventeen years of life had led up to her walking the hallways of Beacon Hills High School. Truth be told, she had always felt out of place anywhere. But not here. No, there was something that made Mollie drawn into this small town.

Mollie had been living in a city a few hours away from Beacon Hills, until, one day, someone wanted her as a foster kid. She had no choice but to come. She never has a choice.

One thing that she didn't have a choice about either were her classes. It may seem like a small thing to get worked up over, but when you're already as mad and broken as she is, you can get worked up over anything. Mollie's schedule was perfect. That was like an insult to her. The things that mattered weren't perfect. The things that didn't matter were. That's how Mollie interpreted something as simple as a class schedule.

She ran her hand through her messy black hair as she stepped into her English class, sitting in the middle row, on the middle column. This was a symbol for her. A symbol that meant that she was always in the middle of something whether she wanted to be or not. Sitting in the middle was her own little rebellion. Even the smallest rebellions can make a big difference.

Mr. Cummings was her English teacher. He was probably in his late forties. She guessed that the only reason he still worked here was to have extra money to buy food for his growing collection of dogs since his wife left him.

That's another thing about Mollie. She could read people. It's just a sense, really. Most people would just call her stupid and go on with their day, but some how, some way, Mollie knew it was real. It's not an exact science, though. Sometimes it's right and it won't change, but it also can change. People and their inner self can change by things like love, hate, or revenge. Everyone changes at some point. Mollie had changed when her mother died. She could never go back to the little, happy girl she was.

Mr. Cummings was telling the class about a two new students. If it wasn't obvious, one of them was Mollie. She hoped against hope that he wouldn't ask them to stand at the front of the class and introduce themselves, but the world is not a wish-granting factory.

Mollie let out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding as she walked up to the front of the class, all of the hormonal teenagers eyes on her. She scrutinized every single soul that dared to look into her eyes. You may say she was overreacting, but this was high school, the epitamy of overreacting, especially for someone like Mollie.

Every time she challenged a pair of eyes that looked at her, they immediately looked away, intimidated. She liked the effect she had on people. It kept them from asking questions, at least to her face. Everything was going smoothly until one pair of eyes didn't look away. In fact, they seemed to glow in the face of a challenge. And Mollie was up to the challenge. For that moment, Mollie had just been focused on his eyes, not his face, and not the teacher, who was currently calling her name, trying to get her attention.

He snapped his fingers impatiently in front of her face, bringing her back to the present, away from his eyes, the challenger's eyes. She gave him a fake smile then said, very un-ladylike, as her Aunt Grace would say, "What?" He pursed his lips and then repeated, "Why don't you tell the class a little bit about yourself?"

Another thing you should know about Mollie is that she's not afraid to let people know what she's thinking.

"Well, my name is Mollie Jennings. I'm seventeen since January. I live in a foster home because my parents died when I was eight and ten. I just moved here from a city a few hours from here."

"Is that all?" Mr. Cummings asked. Mollie decided that she should show Mr. Cummings, a stupid authority figure, someone who was defiant, in her own way.

"One more thing," she said, giving him a half-smile, "Social service is a bitch." And, with that, she went back to her seat in the middle row, on the middle column.

Truth be told, Mr. Cummings had said there were two new students, so, naturally, there was still one other student in front of the class. There wasn't much interesting about her. She was a short, Asian girl, obviously a genius. Mollie sensed that she had skipped two grades, not because she wanted to, but because her parents wanted her to. She seemed eager to learn as she sat down, smiling up at the teacher, who seemed to like her. That's when you know the apple's gone rotten.

Usually first days of school are all about learning how everything is gonna go for the rest of the year, but, since Mollie started at the beginning of the third semester, she didn't get that. Instead, they sat in class reviewing indefinite pronouns so they could do an excersice on it. No nonsense.

When the ball rang, she was just lucky enough to have dropped all her things on the floor before it rang. "Shit!" she said, leaning down to pick up all her things. She didn't get the chance to pick them up, though, because someone else had picked it up and was holding it out for her. She hesitantly reached out and grabbed her stuff from...the challenger. That's what she called him. It probably had something to do with the fact that she had no idea what his name was.

He gave her a half-smile and said, "I think you dropped that. My name is Isaac, by the way."

Issac. His name wasn't 'the challenger,' it was Isaac. Isaac was hot. Sure, Mollie had seen hot guys before, but she had never talked to them. What's the point in talking to someone she might actually like if she's just gonna move again? "I don't remember asking you to pick it up, Isaac," she retorted. His eyes gleamed at that. Mollie grabbed her things and headed towards the door. Isaac called after her, "I didn't catch your name!" She smirked, although he couldn't see it, and said, "I didn't throw it." And, with that, she went off to her science class.

She had accidentally walked into the wrong science class. It didn't help that she was late to the wrong class. Mollie always thought that it was weird when came in late and everyone looks at you like they had thought they'd never see you again. But, since she was new, they weren't that worried. When she found out she was in the wrong class, she picked up her things without a word and webt to her actual science class with Mrs. Adair.

School here was like it always was for Mollie, distant. It was like she was hearing what the teachers said, but she wasn't really aware of it. She was in a world of dreams and hope. Although she would never admit it to anyone, Mollie can be soft and caring. She had hormones and feelings, too, just like everyone else.

Mollie flew through her classes. It was the end of the day and, to her, it had felt like no time had passed at all. You could tell other people didn't think that, though. People kept glancing at clocks and falling asleep in class. While they were doing that, Mollie just simply sat in her chair. She always sat in the middle. In every class, she was in the middle. Her last class made no exception.

The last class she had was Art. Since Art class required a lot of space draw, paint, or create, it was was set up so that two people sat at one long, wide table. Mollie was the second person to get to the classroom, but the first person just happened to be sitting in the middle. The first person was Isaac.

Mollie gritted her teeth, tensing her jaw, and felt his eyes on her. This was another challenge. She was sure of it. She looked over at him, slowly walking down the aisle. He raising a perfectly curved eyebrow at her while obviously hiding a small smirk, but failing. Mollie arrived, taking the seat next to Isaac.

"Why are you doing this?"

"Doing what?"

"Challenging me."

"No idea what you're talking about."

She refused to believe that he didn't know what he was doing to her. It was like this was an obstacle course and Isaac was the obstacle that she couldn't get past. She was determined to get past the obstacle that was Isaac. No matter what.

Mollie turned facing him and stared into his gorgeous eyes that showed know emotion and said, "You know what you're doing, I have no doubts about that. I've been through hell and back and you can be damn sure that I'm not gonna let something as simple as a confident hormonal teenage boy get in my way."

Mollie was expecting him to say something sarcastic, something that would make her think about it all day and night into next year and still not know the answer as to why he asked that. She was right about one thing. She didn't understand and never would why he asked the question he did.

"What's your name?" he asked. It was a simple question, one she knew the answer to, but one that was completely irrelevant to any and everything that she had just said. She creased her eyebrows, pondering why in the hell he would ask that and coming up blank. She was gonna tell him, she was, but then she thought that if he really wanted to know, he'd keep pushing after being rejected. So, she settled for, "Wouldn't you like to know."

He eyed her for a moment. Mollie didn't know that Isaac was a werewolf, didn't know of the supernatural in the town, and didn't know that Isaac had had a rough past, too. He felt drawn to her, drawn to someone who would see him as a person, not as a broken monsterous thing. Isaac loved the fact that she confronted him and knew what he was doing, knew how he challenged her. He loved how her heartbeat kept a steady pace, never going to fast or slow, no matter what the confrontation. He felt like he knew her and always had. That's how he knew to persist to know her name.

He said, "Yes, I would, in fact. I want to know your name. I want to know what I should call you everytime I talk to you and that might be more than you would like."

Isaac heard it. It was small, just slightly different, but it was there. Her heart beat just a little faster when he said he would talk to her a lot. He smiled internally, loving that, loving that he did that to her, no matter how small the reaction.

Mollie heard the words come from his mouth, although her brain didn't really process it until a few minutes after. That's when she realized that he had been waiting for her answer. She said, "Fine. My name is Mollie. Happy?" She didn't want to be irritable towards him, didn't want to be sarcastic or rude, but she was. She needed to drive him away from her. She knew what he was. He was her drug, and she sure as hell wasn't gonna have the first taste that would leave her hanging on forever.

That's why she stayed quiet, staring at the teacher, when he said, "You have no idea."

Mollie liked Art. She liked the idea that she could take something plain, something normal, and make it extraordinary. She liked the idea that she could make whatever she wanted. When she did things like that, she felt in control, stable. And that's not something you'll hear often about her.

Today's assignment was to draw the saddest time in your life. If only the teacher, Mr. Deason, knew how many sad times that she had had. But, since this was the start of the sad times, she chose the day her mother died. She remembered watching her laying down on the bed, holding freshly-picked roses in her hands, fighting for her life and her daughter. That was how Mollie remembered her mom. She fought for what she wanted. She was strong.

Mollie got her piece of paper, a pencil, and got together her thoughts and memories. She pictured her mom that day clearly. It was exactly something that was easy to forget. Mollie sketched the outlines of her face, drew her hair falling around her, shaded her eyelids when they were closed, traced over the shape of the roses and the indents in her mom's cheeks. Mollie captured her mom's essence, her meaning, into the picture. This was a sensitive subject, yes. Mollie was strong, yes. But being strong doesn't mean that you're always strong. In her opinion, crying didn't mean you were weak. It just meant that you'd been strong for too long. And, let's just say, Mollie's been strong for way too long.

When you don't want to cry, you'll probably cry. When you do want to cry, you probably won't. The world is just proposterous like that. So, naturally, Mollie was wiping away tears from her eyes, practically screaming in her head, "Please don't let anyone see!" But, the same logic appears here. When you don't want something to happen, it'll probably happen. Isaac saw her.

Isaac not only saw her, but he had felt the sadness radiating from her, and smelled the tears that had started forming in her eyes. He was a werewolf. All senses were heightened. Isaac was the newbie, basically, to Derek and Scott. That's what they thought of him as. It probably didn't help that he had trouble learning how to track from scent. None of that mattered, though. He wanted to comfort Mollie, to make her feel better, to keep her safe from any and everything that would come for her and hurt her.

Issac knew that he sounded overbearing, knew that he was way too protective over this girl, this human, that he had met only hours ago. Maybe it was his werewolf senses that were heightened or maybe it was fate, Isaac didn't know. You never know.

He watched her, raising his eyebrow. It was a signature move for him, although he didn't always realize he was doing it. "Mollie?" he whispered to her, concerned, if you couldn't tell. She sniffed and wiped her nose on her sleeve, staring down at her drawing. The drawing. That's what he realized was what made her cry. The teacher ha told them to draw their saddest moment. He remembered that she had said that both of her parents had died, but they had been at different ages. Isaac guessed her mom died first. It was obviously who she had drawn. Although it was only a drawing by a 17-year-old girl, it was detailed and well-drawn. You could clearly see everything. It looked almost real. Isaac could clearly see some details of the woman that reminded him of Mollie, who was currently wiping away more tears, avoiding Isaac.

Even though she obviously was trying to be strong, trying to stop crying, and didn't want anyone around her, Isaac still, against her wishes, wrapped his arms around her, holding her close, petting her wavy black hair. She tried to object, to push him away, but Isaac used a small amount of his supernatural strength to hold the upset girl to him while she let out her feelings.

While Isaac thought he was comforting her, Mollie wasn't feelings comforted. She was angry, once again. She was angry that she fell prey to her feelings. She was angry that she cried on her first day of her thousandth new school. And, most of all, she was angry that she was too weak at that moment to push Isaac's comforting arms off of her.

When she had shed her last tear, she silently pried Isaac's arms off of her and took her drawing to Mr. Deason, and walking out because the bell had just rung. Mollie was startled when Isaac caught up with her because she had had such a great head start out of the class. He said, "Mollie. Do you need a ride home?" It would've been creepy, if Mollie hadn't known what she thought she knew about Isaac.

Remember how Mollie can 'read' people? Well, Isaac was no exception. He was very sensitive to small spaces. His parents were dead, too, like Mollie's, but it had been more recently than hers were. There was one more thing she tried to dig out of him, one big thing that would tie up the whole exsistance of Isaac, but she couldn't find it, couldn't bring that small part of Isaac out and know what it was. Little did Mollie know, that part of Isaac would scare her out of her pants. Isaac was a werewolf, and that's something that he never wanted her to know.

"Sure. I was gonna walk, but I guess I wouldn't have ended up there until tomorrow morning," Mollie replied, suddenly nervous about being alone with this gorgeous boy that she had forbidden herself from. She refused to give into her hormones.

He guided Mollie to the school parking lot and to the car that he may or may not have stolen. What she doesn't know won't kill her. He opened the passenger door for her, accidentally being a gentleman. She raised an eyebrow at him, but stayed silent.

She looked around in his car, looking at his glasses hanging on the mirror and a bunch of food wrappers in the back seat. Isaac stepped into the driver's side and gave Mollie a half-smile then cranked up the car and started playing some music. The music was loud, but not so loud that talking was unwelcome.

"Don't you need to know where I live?"

"I totally forgot!" he said, shaking his head for a moment, "I was just about to take you home with me."

Mollie gave him an incredulous look then typed her address into the GPS on the dashboard. She found it strange that she had already remembered the address. She shrugged it off, thinking maybe it was just a catchy street name, not even considering the fact that maybe, just maybe, she was meant to be there in Beacon Hills.

Isaac followed the GPS's instructions, soon arriving at Mollie's house without a word, although she could tell that he had wanted to talk to her the whole way there. He, once again, acted like a gentleman and walked her to the door. Isaac looked at her for a moment, giving her a look that made her hormones go "BOOM" for once in her life. She had never felt the urge to kiss someone so badly, had never felt this...indescrible want to be near him, be with him.

"Is this your house?"

"Yes."

"Do you like it?"

"Yes."

"Do you miss your birth parents?"

"Yes."

"Do you want to kiss me as much as I want to kiss you?"

"Yes."

He looked at her for a moment, backing her up against the door, putting his face right in front of hers, so close that she could feel his breath on her face, sending a shiver down her spine.

She knew it was wrong. She didn't want to kiss him, didn't want to fall prey to the heroine that was tempting her so badly. Her heroine was calling her, wanting her, begging her to use it. She looked up at him for a moment, seeing his lips open slightly, his usually emotionless eyes gazing down at her, very alive, and let's not forget the fact that he had pinned against the door. Mollie was so overwhelmed with this new feeling, this new hunger.

She looked at him for a moment and then stopped fighting it, stopped fighting him. "Fuck it," she said, looking us at him, "I'm going to hell anyway." She grabbed his face and pulled him down to her. Suddenly the fact that she'd probably be gone soon faded away. The pain, the brokenness, everything just faded away as he molded his lips with hers. It was in broad daylight on her doorstep. It wasn't very romantic, but it was all she needed. He didn't know that that was her first kiss, and he didn't need to. She ran her hands over his chest while he still had her pinned against the door, kissing her back as passionately as she was kissing him. The fact that she had met him just hours ago didn't matter anyway.

Finally she pulled away from him, moving her hand to the doorknob and smiled up at him. "See you at school," she said, smirking up at him and then opened the door and disappeared inside. As soon as the door shut, she leaned on it, sliding down it and looked up at the ceiling. "Damn," she said, touching her fingers to her lips. Little did she know that Isaac was still listening on the other side of the door with a ridiculously wide grin and a pep in his step.

Mollie thought maybe Beacon Hills was the place for her. And, no, it had nothing to do with a certain Isaac. In that moment, Mollie felt finally alive.


	2. Fun

Mollie had been so lost in her own haze of confusion and love that she forgot to be mean to her foster mom, Anne. Mollie didn't see anything wrong with Anne. In fact, she thought Anne would be the perfect mother. So, when Mollie flopped down on the couch, eyes glazed over, staring at the ceiling, Anne came in and sat next to her and said something that made Mollie feel very close to her. She said, "Who's the lucky boy? Was he hot?"

You have no idea how badly Mollie blushed, thinking back to Isaac's lips on hers. All she could do was nod, though. She felt this odd feeling in her stomach. Butterflies? Is this serious? Mollie laughed out loud, looking at Anne in absolute horror, but also in gratitude. Mollie thought she might explode if she didn't tell anyone about what had happened between them.

"Well," she started, blushing immensely still, "his name is Isaac. Now, if I'm being honest with you, I usually distance myself with people. But he...he challenges me. No one ever does that. And I like it. He started talking to me. Hot guys never talk to me! Like ever. He even drove me here, Anne! And..." Mollie trailed off, nervous about what Anne would say about the kiss. Anne gave her a look that said 'go on!' and so she did. "...he kissed me. Well, he asked me if I wanted to kiss him and I said yes and I tried so hard to resist and then I just kissed him and he kissed back and then I came inside and...oh my god, his lips! Unf," Mollie rambled, going on and on without breathing.

Anne paused for a second then broke out into a wide grin. "Damn, girl!" she said, "I wish I had had game like that when I was your age!" Mollie let a relieved sigh and just laughed.

To be honest, this was Mollie's first 'girl friend,' as it were. She felt close to Anne already and she had on been there in Beacon Hills for two days! Mollie looked at Anne for a moment and then confessed, "Anne, if I'm being honest, I've never really liked my foster families. They either beat me or liked to give me space or were just too strict. But...with you...it just feels like home. You're the perfect mom."

Mollie wanted to smile at her last sentence, she really did, but, instead, she cringed. Her birth mother...she had been perfect. Mollie missed her under every circumstance and would do anything to get her back, but still she had said it to Anne, to her new friend. Mollie didn't know what to say or what to feel. That's when she remembered what she was. She remembered that she was broken, unreachable. But something about this place was making her not-so-distant. She didn't know if she wanted her wall to come down quite yet. She knew one thing for sure, though. It all started when Isaac had started talking to her. She didn't know what to do about that.

Anne cocked her head to the side and looked at Mollie for a minute then, seemingly decided, wrapped her arms around Mollie and said soothingly, "Mollie... That was sweet, it really was, but I know that you can't and won't give me full reign over being your mom full time. So, for now, let me just be your friend." Anne gave her a warm smile and got up then said, "So how about some Christmas cookies? Christmas is just around the corner, might as well get some good cookies out of it!" Mollie grinned for the first time in a long time. Anne was right; she might as well get some good cookies out of it!

An hour later, Anne and Mollie were laughing and throwing cookie dough at each other. Anne yelled over Mollie's laughter, "I probably should've mentioned that I don't know how to cook cookies!" Mollie knew that this was definitely the most fun she had had in way too long. Yes, it had been too long, and she liked this, she liked the fun that she was having in this small town. She, once again, felt like she was meant to be there. Maybe she would never get rid of the feeling. Maybe.

After an epic battle with cookie dough flying everywhere, dough in the hair, and loud battle cries, Mollie and Anne flopped down on the couch, practically glowing in the after-battle high. Mollie looked over at Anne and said, "We should do that again sometime." Anne chuckled and said, "Next time we use raw meat?" Mollie nodded and held out her hand, which Anne took and shook.

"It's a date."

Mollie had never been a typical teenager. She had never kissed someone, bonded with a friend, had raging hormones, obsessed over a guy nonstop, or went around telling gossip to all her friends. Since she's moved here, to Beacon Hills, she's already accomplished four out of five of those. It's just something about this place that makes her feel...normal, even though she's anything but. Here, she can be who she was supposed to be.

Mollie found herself wondering if she would've ever met Isaac if her parents hadn't died and she hadn't gone into foster homes and been rejected from all of them. "At least one good thing came out of it," she thought bitterly to herself. Isaac was special to her in a way that she didn't think even she understood yet. It was like she was meant to be with him, to talk to him, to feel him next to her. She knew it was irrational to think that way about someone she had met just that day, but she couldn't help it. Isaac was meant for her. Somehow, some way, he was meant for her.

Mollie shook her head, clearing away the previous thoughts that had been invading her mind over the past half hour. She flicked her light off and hopped in the bed, letting herself drift off into sleep where Isaac surely wouldn't find her.

Mollie woke up out of breath and wide-eyed. She remembered the dream vividly. Well, it hadn't been a dream exactly, but more like a video replaying itself over and over. It had been dark. She had been by the woods. There, she had looked to the side and had seen two yellow, glowing eyes that seemed to stare into her very soul, seemed to know her. This had played over in her mind the whole time she had been asleep. She had been woken when Anne had walked into the room and turned the light on, invading the darkness that Mollie had previously been in.

Anne raised an eyebrow and said, "Nightmare?" Mollie sighed and ran her hand through her hair, starting to get out of bed, and said, "Not exactly." Anne looked at her for a moment and then replied, "I never know what to do with 'not exactly.'"

Mollie shrugged it off and started putting her clothes on. She wore some dark black jeans with a shirt that said, "Made in China." in Chinese and English. She tied on her red sneakers while she snacked on a poptart. She briefly looked at herself in the mirror, seeing her hair falling around her shoulders. Mollie didn't like to look in the mirror, not because she thought she was ugly or fat, but because, to her, mirrors didn't make any sense. When you look in a mirror, you see yourself outside. Mollie thought there should be a mirror that showed you your true self. That way, people would stop lying to themselves and to others about who they are.

Mollie headed for the door, pulling on her red hoodie and grabbing her book bag, calling out to Anne, "I'm borrowing your car!" Mollie heard Anne reply, "Don't wreck!" right before she shut the door and walked to Anne's blue Jeep, hopping in and cranking it up. Mollie loved Jeeps. She loved that there weren't really that many windows or can walls separating her from the outside. She wanted to feel the wind through her hair as she cruised down the road. Mollie blasted her current favorite radio station and sang along while zipping through traffic and parked in the school parking lot. Coincidentally, she parked beside another Jeep, this one silver.

She quickly grabbed her things and ran off to English, sitting back in her middle seat. When she sat there, she thought about who she had been yesterday morning and who the town had turned her into. This town had made her new, made her improved. She felt great, but, most importantly, she felt free. Mollie hadn't felt free since she was 8-years-old. That's a long time to have been trapped in your own thoughts and sorrows.

Today was her second day at Beacon Hills high school and she had a total of one friend, if you could even call a mysterious guy who she made-out with on her front porch her friend... Mollie quickly removed the picture of her kissing Isaac away from her head before the hormones caught up with her.

Speaking of hormones, Isaac, in the flesh, walked into the room. He acted like absolutely nothing interesting had happened to him in the past 24 hours, but then Mollie saw the slight glint in his eye when he looked at her and smiled inwardly to herself. He made it look like nothing out of the ordinary had happened as he sat behind Mollie.

Isaac pulled out a piece of paper, looking at the back of Mollie's head as he wrote:

"Hey. What're you doing this afternoon?"

She took the paper from him and started writing.

"I think I'm going to a little kid's birthday party. Why?"

"Well, I was going to ask you out, but now I see that's out if the picture."

"Speaking of pictures and views, stop staring at my butt. I can feel your eyes on it."

"Stop wanting me to."

"Touché."

Mollie sent the last word to him with a little smile and then the teacher walked in and class commenced. Mollie would've continued her cycle of pretending she was listening to the teacher and then getting good grades if it hadn't been for her still feeling Isaac's eyes on her back and his breath on the back of her neck, reminding her of when his breath was blowing on her right before they kissed. You could say she was wide awake the whole class period.

Isaac was doing it on purpose, somehow knowing what would keep her on edge, but unable to do anything. He also knew she liked it, even if she wouldn't admit it, not even to herself. Isaac had met her yesterday but he felt like he knew her like the back of his hand. He knew she had changed a great deal since yesterday and he took pride in knowing that some of it had to do with him. But, he also knew that she hadn't transformed completely. She was still part of the girl who was broken, lost, and wanted her parents back. She would always have a part of that girl with her, no matter what Isaac did or said. No amount of anything could take that part of her away from herself.

When the bell rang, Mollie quickly got out of her seat and left. She couldn't take Isaac's teasing any longer. Her hormones were on red alert and Mollie thought that if someone even touched her, she would explode. But, being as she was rushing, she ran smack into someone and she fell over on top of them, causing them both to hit the ground.

Underneath her was a guy that she had seen in one of her classes. She thought Stiles was his name. Stiles was really awkward, but funny and ridiculously hot for someone who could never get a girlfriend. He groaned before he looked up at her and grinned slightly before saying casually, "Glad I could be your choice of cushion." He sounded awkward when he said it, but there was also a way he said it that made Mollie want to laugh. She sat back, inexplicably sitting back on something that she definitely didn't mean to sit back on. Stiles closed his eyes, threw his head back, and groaned again. She looked around for a minute before realizing what she had done. She blushed and was about to apologize when strong arms lifted her off of Stiles.

It was Isaac. It wasn't the Isaac she knew, or, thought she knew. This was an Isaac that was extremely annoyed and extremely jealous. Stiles scrambled to his feet and said, "Hey Isaac. Thanks for getting her off me. If I didn't know any better, I'd say she liked being there." He grinned and Mollie gave him a half smile in return. But, while they had that exchange, Isaac said, "It's a good thing you know better. See you later, Stiles."

Isaac wrapped his arm around Mollie's shoulders and guided her away from Stiles. After a moment, she took his arm away from her, although she loved the feel of it around her, and said crossly, "What'd you do that for?"

"Can't have him thinking that you like him, now can we? Stiles can't keep a girlfriend to save his life."

"What if I do like him?"

"You don't. You like me. Remember? We kissed, Mollie."

"What if that didn't mean anything to me?"

"Prove it."

Just those two words made Mollie extremely dangerous, not only to the people around her, but to herself. She glared at Isaac then called back to Stiles, "Hey Stiles! Wait up!" Mollie knew what she was about to do as she walked alongside Stiles, but that didn't stop her from being nervous. No matter how much she liked Isaac, he was not allowed to challenge her. Mollie stopped Stiles for a minute and turned him towards her. He said, "Wha-?" Stiles didn't get to finish his sentence, though, because Mollie reached up and kissed him. Hard.

Stiles was completely shocked at first and didn't move, but, once he got his bearings, he began to move his lips with hers, totally unaware of Isaac looking at both of them. If looks could kill, he would've done it by now. Many times. Stiles continued to kiss Mollie, until, finally, she pulled away and grinned up at him. "Glad I could be the girl you kissed," she said, heading towards her class, already late. She was pretty sure she heard him mumble, "I am too." before she went in. As soon as the door shut, she regretted it immediately.

The whole day Mollie was nervous about seeing Isaac again. She was all set to apologize to him, to make it up to him. When she sat down in Art class, she was practically shaking with anticipation at seeing him again.

As soon as the thought went out the other side of her brain, Isaac walked into the room. Suddenly, it was like they were the only two people in the room as their eyes locked. He walked over to her and sat beside her and the fantasy was gone.

She started apologizing, "Isaac, I'm so sorry that I did that to Stiles. It's just... You challenged me. Who care if it was about something that was true? It was still a challenge. I knew back down from a challenge. Anyways, Isaac, I do like you. I like you a lot. I know I'm doing everything wrong and it's because, for the past seventeen years of my life, I haven't had a boyfriend or a kiss or hormones... I don't really know what I'm doing."

Isaac looked down at her, his eyes gone soft. He half smiled and said, "I'm sorry for getting jealous."

"Look, I like Stiles, but as a friend. Isaac, you've got to understand. I haven't had friends since I was eight. He seems to be my first friend. I wasn't trying to make you jealous and I don't think you should be jealous, especially not of Stiles. Just, let me have my friends."

He smiled and nodded then leaned down and kissed her cheek, acting like it was nothing out of the ordinary when few people saw. But, it was out of the ordinary. Her whole life was out of the ordinary. This was not her, had not been 'her' for so long. She didn't know what she was doing or how to control herself. She was starting from scratch. Maybe it would be a good thing.

The Art teacher walked into the room and told us today's lesson. Today we were supposed to draw what we think about most, as of right now. Mollie immediately looked over at Isaac, who didn't seem to notice the glance. She grabbed her piece of paper and drawing tools and set to work.

Isaac was completely focused on his art work, which she refused to look at until she was finished. She could only see one side of his face, so she pictured his face in her mind as she had done so many times the night before. She started sketching the outline of his face and then continued to sketch his curly brown hair and emotionless, but seemingly passionate eyes. She drew his cheekbones and full lips, slightly open, biting his tongue. She then continued to color the masterpiece in. Although it was very obviously Isaac, there was just something that seemed to her like it really wasn't showing her who Isaac was. Not really. But, looking down at it, she remembered the time he had looked exactly like this. This had been the face he had given her before they kissed. This had been the face that made her hormones pop.

Since she was finished, she decided that it was time to look at Isaac's art. What she saw immediately made her not feel awkward for what she drew. Isaac was in the middle of coloring in what he had drawn. What he had drawn was her. Except, he had drawn something that had not happened between them yet, something she had never experienced, something no high schooler had experienced.

It was her in a bed, his bed, she guessed. She was obviously naked, but you could only tell because you saw her shoulders and up and there was no cloth on her shoulders. She was asleep and there was clearly a picture of Isaac in front of her, holding out breakfast for her on a tray. But there was something that she noticed on the tray, around a thing of sausage. It was a ring.

Mollie looked up at him, shocked. "I..." she trailed off, unsure what to say. He was already thinking about that stuff? She wasn't even sure if they were 'dating' yet! Isaac looked down at her, eyes somber. "Sorry if it's a bit forward..," he said, still looking down at her.

While they shared a moment, Stiles was in English with Scott, Allison, and Lydia. "Dude, I swear! She just turned me around and kissed me. No questions asked," Stiles was saying to Scott while they waited for the teacher to arrive. "Well, Isaac obviously likes her. He may have even marked her as his. If he does, anyone who touches her, he will literally kill them. And, I don't know about you, but I value my life, no matter how hot this girl is," Scott said as Lydia and Allison rolled their eyes.

Lydia dabbed her plump lips with lip-stick/lip-gloss for the thousandth time that day and said, "Well, if she kissed Stiles, then she's obviously not that 'hot,' or sane, for that matter." Stiles scoffed, "Hey! I'm here, you know!" Allison and Scott just laughed as Lydia said, "Yes, you are."

Soon the bell rang and Mollie got her things together. She thought Isaac was going offer to give her a ride and she remembered that she had rode Anne's car to school that morning. Before Isaac could say anything, she said, "Hey, do you need a ride home?" He shrugged and nodded, "Sure, that'd be nice. What kind of car do you have?"

"Well, it's not my car. It's my foster mom, Anne's, car. She let me borrow it. Plus, I'm not really good with the specifics of cars and such."

He nodded as they walked into the parking lot, heading towards Mollie's, well, Anne's, car. What they didn't see, though, was Scott, Stiles, Allison, and Lydia walking towards them, well, towards Stiles's car which was right next to Mollie's. They found out soon enough because they got to Mollie's car at the same time that Stiles and they got into his.

Mollie sort of stood there for a moment as they all looked at each other. She needed to know how to handle this awkward tension. So, probably unwisely, she said, simply, "Hi." Isaac snorted and she batted her hand at his stomach. For some reason, she got the feeling that if anyone else had done that, he wouldn't have taken it so lightly.

Scott held out his hand to Mollie and said, "Hi, I'm Scott." She shook his hand, feeling the calluses on his hands from lacrosse. She gave him a warm smile that he smirked at slightly, which confused her, but she just left it alone. Stiles, being extremely awkward as always, said, "This is the girl that kissed me! See, Scott? I told you she was hot." Mollie blushed a deep red and Isaac glared at him without it going unnoticed by Scott.

Scott pulled Isaac and Stiles to the side for a moment, leaving Allison, Lydia, and Mollie alone together. Mollie looked at Scott dragging Isaac away for a moment before turning back to the girls, wide-eyed. "I... Uh..." she said. Lydia eyed her for a moment, walking around her, obviously judging her. She said, "It's true. You're hot. Not hotter than me, of course, but you're up there. But why the hell did you kiss Stiles?" Mollie didn't want to have to explain all about her parents and how Isaac had been there for her or the challenge he gave her. So, instead, she said, "He's hot."

Meanwhile, the guys were having a bit of a disagreement. Scott said, "Isaac, did you mark that girl?" Isaac hissed at Stiles, ignoring Scott's question, "Don't you fucking touch her. She is mine." Stiles backed up towards Scott a bit. You never know what hormonal werewolves will do. "Fine!" Isaac said, "I didn't mark her. Not yet. But that doesn't give Stiles the right to go creeping on her!" Scott looked back and forth from Isaac to Stiles, who was still slightly hiding behind him. "Actually, Isaac, if Mollie doesn't mind, Stiles can really do anything he wants unless she's your girlfriend. Which, we're about to find out if she is."

Isaac glared at him while they both listened to the girls' conversation with their keen werewolf ears. They heard Lydia calling Mollie hot and then asking why Mollie kissed Stiles. Scott listened hard, waiting for Mollie's response. She said, "He's hot." Scott could practically feel Isaac's body go rigid. "Now, that doesn't sound like something your girlfriend would say, Isaac." Stiles looked at them, utterly confused, and said, "What the hell just happened?"

"Mollie called you hot," Scott answered.

Stiles brushed the invisible dust off his shoulders and said, "Well, I am very good looking." Isaac scoffed and turned around, walking towards Mollie and the girls who were laughing about the guy who had farted at lunch.

Isaac wrapped his arm around her shoulders and said, "Well, it was nice talking to you, but I think we're going to now." Mollie smiled at the girls and got in her car, her mind spinning about the conversation they had had. She had had an actual conversation with two girls that didn't make her want to run away screaming. Lydia was a little hard to talk to, but she liked her. She had liked both of them. This place not only brought out her true self, but also her true friends.

She decided to, for once, not to think about her life and decided to think about the seriously hot guy that just happened to be looking across from her right at the moment. She stuck her tongue out at him and grinned.

"Hey, can you type in your address in the GPS?"

Isaac nodded and typed it in. Mollie turned the music up really loud before leaving the parking lot and started singing along with the song, which just happened to be "Demons" by Imagine Dragons. It just...spoke to her in a way that she didn't know how to explain. Anyways, she started driving to Isaac's house.

She discovered soon, though, that Isaac lived with some guy named Derek. "Who is Derek?" she asked when Isaac told her. He smiled slightly and said, "I guess he's sort of my guardian. Although, he's more of a pack mom than a leader." Isaac chuckled, but Mollie didn't really get the joke. How could she have? She didn't know that werewolves existed. Mollie walked Isaac up to his door and he turned around facing her. Mollie decided that it was time for payback. She said, "Do you like it here?"

"Yep."

"Is Derek nice?"

"Yeah."

"Would you give it all up for a three day trip to Italy?"

"Hell yes."

"Do you wanna kiss me as much as I wanna kiss you?"

"And another hell yes."

Isaac's mind was racing. Mollie was obviously copying what he had done to her the day before. He was in her position, except that he needed to stop his hormones for a different reason. He knew that Derek always listened to him walking up to the steps, and he was surely listening to what Mollie had been saying. He didn't know what he'd do if Derek decided to come 'investigate.'

Isaac's hormones said something different as Mollie put her hand on his chest and stood on her toes so that she could be equal in height with him. She was looking up at him with a determination that made her look so sexy. He was at a loss for what to do. But, as soon as Mollie laid her forehead against his and leaned in, every thought about not kissing her right then washed away.

He grabbed her hips and pulled her toward him, not only giving into his hormones, but also into his werewolf instincts. She crashed her lips onto his, thankful for his hands on her hips keeping her steady, otherwise she would've fallen. Mollie reached her hands up and tangled her fingers in the hair behind Isaac's head.

Then, Isaac's worst fears came true. Well, they had been leaning against the door, so it was basically holding them up. So, when Derek took the door and pulled it wide open, Isaac and Mollie fell backwards. Mollie looked up at Derek in shock and embarrassment, a trail of spit still connecting her and Isaac's lips. She quickly scrambled to her feet and stuttered, "I-I, uh, was just..."

Mollie felt absolutely horrified of herself. Usually she was string and tough, not scared of some muscle-y guy she'd just met, but she had gone soft. She had gone soft the second she met Isaac. So, she stood up straighter and said, "Who the hell are you?" Derek raised his eyebrows so high, Mollie thought they might have gone off his head. He answered, "I'm Derek. Isaac's guardian." Mollie would've blushed at the fact that she'd just said something like that to the person who watched over Isaac, but he fought it off.

Isaac said, "Well, Mollie was just leaving..." He trailed off, nervous about what Derek would say to Mollie if he didn't get her out of there now. He quickly, but gently, pushed Mollie outside and gave her a peck on the cheek before slamming the door in her perfect face.

Derek said, "Quite the charmer you've got there. You do know you aren't allowed to be with a human, right, Isaac?"

"But Scott is with Allison!"

"That's different. She knows about us and what we are. Mollie doesn't. That's dangerous."

"Well, lots of things are dangerous, Derek! Maybe I should just mark her so that you guys will get off my back!"

"You can't do that, Isaac, and you know it."

"Ugh! I guess you really are the pack mom."

As Isaac stormed off to his room, Derek said in a high-pitched voice, "Don't forget to pick up your tight-y white-ies on the way to your room!" Isaac groaned and Derek chuckled, settling back down on the couch.

Meanwhile, Mollie was a confused mess. Why had Isaac acted that way about her meeting Derek? It wasn't that big a deal. She trudged back to Anne's car and hopped in, thinking everything that had happened that day over in her head as she cranked the car. Surprisingly, she remembered how to get to her house from Isaac's.

She rocked out in Anne's car to music while she drives to her house, thankful that no one could see her. That would've been über embarrassing. She realized something. Mollie had already started to think of Anne's house as "her house." Mollie was glad that she had finally found a place that she fit in, but she was also sad that she was losing the strong, determined side of herself. That side of herself was how she had survived life.

Arriving at the house, she parked Anne's car in the driveway and uncranked it, pulling the keys out and taking them with her inside. She laid then down on the kitchen counter when she walked in and called out, "Anne! I'm home!"

Mollie heard Anne bustling around in laundry room, washing clothes. They were mostly hers considering Mollie had only been living there for two or three days. Anne called back to Mollie, "Don't forget that we have my niece's birthday party to go to in an hour!"

Mollie almost groaned aloud, and then quickly stopped herself, knowing how much this party meant to Anne. Anne's niece, Ginny, has down syndrome and she's turning five tomorrow and they're having her party today because it's a Friday. Mollie might not have as much sympathy as she should for people like that, but it's only because, if she were them, she wouldn't want people to look at them like they weren't normal, didn't fit in. She'd want to be treated like everyone else, not different.

So, Mollie agreed to go with Anne to the party and, well, party. Mollie didn't really ever go to parties with other teenagers. So, basically, this party would probably be the highlight of her year. If you think it's sad, that's because it is.

Mollie sat on the couch and watched TV, letting the time pass by while eating a snack.

The time passed by quickly. Soon enough, Anne was telling Mollie it was time to go and Mollie went and put her bikini on under her clothes in case she decided she would get in the water. Anne and she drove to the park/waterpark in silence, with only the soft hum of the car and quiet music filling in the voiceless gap. The silence wasn't awkward, though, like most. This silence was comfortable, they were comfortable.

Upon arriving at the party, Mollie looked around at all the little kids. She thought it was so unfair to them that they got to be little, little and careless, yes, but they also would be exposed to the world soon. And, like most, they probably won't like what's been exposed to them. Like is like a rollercoaster, yes, but it's not like it in the most important way. It's not like it in the way that you can choose to not ride a rollercoaster. With life, it's do or die. They seemed happy now, running around, playing with friends at a party. Maybe that's all that matters for now.

Mollie got out of the car and walked over to the group of kids. She looked around and finally spotted Ginny. Mollie recognized her from some pictures Anne had shown Mollie of her. Mollie walked up to Ginny and bent down, then talked to her in that baby voice that she hates to use, especially to kids who don't understand that they're basically being mocked.

"Hi, Ginny! You don't know me, but my name is Mollie! It's so nice to meet you!"

Mollie held her arms out for a hug even though she hated hugs and really didn't want the smaller child to drool on her. She smiled up at her, a sweet and innocent smile that was full of happiness, and hugged Mollie. As much as she didn't want to, Mollie felt sympathy for this girl, this small girl, whose chance of ever being looked at as just a girl was now gone because of some unfair syndrome that she didn't ask for.

Mollie smiled back, holding back tears as she walked away and sat down at a table in the park. Mollie quickly got bored of the party. All the kids did was run around and laugh, no conversations, no interactions. Mollie had nothing better to do, so she started watching the joggers going on the track around the park/waterpark.

She didn't even realize one guy was walking towards her until he was a few yards away from her. Mollie looked up, suddenly a little panicked. Then, she noticed something. No, she recognized something. The shape of the guys body, the way he walked...she knew that body and that walk. It was Isaac. He pulled down his hood and took off his sunglasses, now only a few feet away. He grinned at her, "What're you doing here?"

Isaac knew what she was doing here, he had followed her here, but he wasn't going to let her know that. She'd think he was strange and creepy and that was the last thing that he wanted her to think of him as. Mollie looked up at him disbelievingly. "I told you that I had to go to a little kid's birthday party. This is where it's at. What are you doing here?"

Although Isaac didn't like lying to her, he'd probably lose her if he told her the truth that he was a werewolf. And the last thing that he wanted to do was lose her. He said, "I go jogging every once in a while to keep in shape for lacrosse." Mollie nodded, understanding, and said, "Why don't you sit with me?" Isaac grinned mischievously at her and shook his head.

"I have a better idea."

Those five words were how Mollie found herself soaking wet, still completely dressed, with Isaac spraying her with a water hose. It had started out simple, both of them "accidentally" getting water on each other they were soaked and a complete laughing mess. Then Isaac started assaulting her with bullets of cold water and she fell prey to him, holding up her hands to shield her eyes.

Suddenly, the water stopped hitting her and she opened her eyes after a moment, not seeing Isaac anywhere. Then, arms wrapped around her waist from behind and Isaac leaned down and whispered in her ear, "Looking for me?" Mollie blushed and turned around in his arms so she could look up at him. He smiled down at her, looking into her stormy grey-blue eyes. She smiled back, pulling him closer. "This was fun," she mumbled. Isaac couldn't stand the fact that she wasn't officially his yet any longer. He said, "Mollie, I need to ask you some-"

"Mollie! It's time to song happy birthday!"

Mollie made it over to them just in time to finish the end part of the happy birthday song. She smiled at Ginny like everyone else. Isaac had wrapped his arms around her waist from behind again and had his chin resting on her wet head. Anne raised an eyebrow as a question for Mollie, but Mollie just mouthed to her, "Later."

In the midst of all the smiling faces, Ginny's happiness, Mollie's happiness, and a lot of presents, Mollie though that maybe, for once, her day had gone just right. And, even though she hated to admit it, she loved it. She lived the perfectness of the day and of Isaac and of the party, just everything. All was well.

For now.


End file.
